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LiekePoems
I miss it not the place but the temperature of being held. Once, home was a body around me warm water I did not have to cross I did not swim I floated. They carried me without knowing they were carrying Now I return and nothing has moved. The streets remain exactly where I left them. Walls still breathe the same dust. Chairs remember the shape of my childhood. It is I who has shifted a continent drifting quietly away. Pompeii. Statue city. The music plays somewhere but the dancers are ash. They smile the same smiles. They speak the same words. Do they know? Can they hear my voice? Everything is preserved except the illusion. It hurts how growth is a kind of betrayal How love can stay still while you grow wings. Hold on to me and lie Say nothing has changed Say I am still small enough to fit inside your arms. Place your hand on your heart I will place mine on memory Between us an ocean that was once a room. Blood in birth. Blood in departure. The cord that fed me I had to cut. Butterfly, Fly. The garden no longer knows your name. Our hearts still beat in the womb of that house. And when I close my eyes, the statues breathe just for a moment.
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Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 4:22 PM UTC
Statue City
I miss it not the place but the temperature of being held. Once, home was a body around me warm water I did not have to cross I did not swim I floated. They carried me without knowing they were carrying Now I return and nothing has moved. The streets remain exactly where I left them. Walls still breathe the same dust. Chairs remember the shape of my childhood. It is I who has shifted a continent drifting quietly away. Pompeii. Statue city. The music plays somewhere but the dancers are ash. They smile the same smiles. They speak the same words. Do they know? Can they hear my voice? Everything is preserved except the illusion. It hurts how growth is a kind of betrayal How love can stay still while you grow wings. Hold on to me and lie Say nothing has changed Say I am still small enough to fit inside your arms. Place your hand on your heart I will place mine on memory Between us an ocean that was once a room. Blood in birth. Blood in departure. The cord that fed me I had to cut. Butterfly, Fly. The garden no longer knows your name. Our hearts still beat in the womb of that house. And when I close my eyes, the statues breathe just for a moment.
#home#moving#missing#love
Written by
Lieke
20/F/Netherlands
Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 4:22 PM UTC
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